Seth bounded through the door, panting from the flights of stairs he had just raced up. He thrust his hand forward summoning a powerful gust of wind from the broken window to pound into Patric’s back. It did nothing. It did not even budge him. Seth could see Yasmine’s terrified face twisting over Patric’s shoulders, trying with all her might to avoid the deadly teeth now almost at her throat. Seth sprang forward and jumped Patric, punching the monster in his back as hard as he could. Seth held tight despite Patric’s thrashing around. Seth knew if he let go of the monster, Yasmine was sure to be bitten. The effort succeeded in pulling Patric away from Yasmine, but it did little to subdue him. Patric swiped his paw behind himself and grabbed Seth by the side, digging his talons into Seth’s abdomen and lifting him off. With Patric’s other arm he sliced Seth down the back. Yasmine screamed as Seth, flayed and bleeding profusely, stumbled backwards and fell to the floor. His sliced muscles exposed as he writhed in agony.

  Lana sprang through the door and raced toward Seth’s body as Seth tried, with much effort, to stand again. Salem came next, followed by Arielle. Salem froze Lana in place but watched horrified as the female wolf slowly began to twitch herself loose of the spell. Before she’d completely freed herself, Salem shouted to her sister.

  “Arielle! The bricks! Like washing the windows!”

  Arielle understood right away and focused her power on the walls around. Their decades old mortar was loose, and it was easy. One at a time, bricks began to loosen from their hold in the wall and flew like bullets directly into Lana Leighton’s wolf form. Freed from one spell, Lana was powerless to attack Seth as she found herself preoccupied with dodging bricks or winching from the blows as dozens sailed directly at her from across the room.

  Patrick turned his attention back to Yasmine. If he could just bite her, there would be nothing the witches could do to save her. She would be his again, forever. He lurched forward and grabbed his sister by the throat with his paw, dragging her across the room like a rag doll as he stood on his powerful hind legs.

  Instinctively Seth, outstretched his arms and leaned back, attempting to summon something greater than he had ever summoned before. He teetered clumsily from the dizzying pain of the exposed sinew and tissue of his torn back, but he managed to stay upright. From outside a thunderous roar surged overhead, it shook the building. Without warning the six windows surrounding the room lighted in a flash of white as bolts of lightning exploded forth through them, all striking Patric’s chest. Patric stumbled backward, falling to the floor, his grip on Yasmine released. Yasmine lay on the ground still flinching from the surge of electricity she’d endured.

  Suddenly the street-facing wall exploded outward, sending the remaining bricks which had not been pulled out from Arielle’s spell, splintering out into the street. In the void where the wall had been removed, hovered Olympia, Zelda, Demitra, and Beryl. Olympia’s arms still open from where she had blown the wall out, the four of them stood atop a van. On the broken sidewalk below stood Artemis, holding them in place with her power. Fable stood nearby protecting Artemis from the few remaining wolves stalking. Fable was busy directing her army of birds and dogs, now assisted by dozens of neighborhood cats, opossums, and rats—all attacking the remaining wolves below. Try as the wolves might to reach Artemis, the siege they were under from Fable’s friends proved too encompassing.

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  “Beryl! Heal Yaz!” Seth commanded as Beryl took a giant leap from the van into the building, racing forward to her cousin. Yasmine still lay tremoring from the violent flow of electricity that had been conducted into her by Patric’s grip. Patric, not human, was already righting himself, ready to strike again.

  “How do we kill him?” Zelda screamed.

  “Haven’t you learned by now?” Patric growled. “A werewolf is ridiculously hard to kill. Now watch Yasmina, as I rip your fake family apart. Only then can we be together, united as brother and sister again.”

  “United,” Arielle said.

  Salem turned, “What?”

  Arielle’s face beamed. “United!”

  Salem understood her sister’s meaning. “And united together!” Salem cried. “Seth, grab Arielle’s hand!”

  Seth stumbled forward and clasped hands with Arielle. Salem grabbed her brother’s other hand and the three of them stood together facing Patric.

  “Now!” Salem screamed.

  In unison she and Arielle both lifted their free hands and directed them towards each other across Seth. An unseen power surged from each towards the other, linking, cycling through the three of them, amplified by the presence of Seth gripped between them. Arielle and Salem could feel the force intensifying and once it reached an unstoppable level both sisters instinctively swept their arms back, as if mimicking a parting motion. Instantly a torrent of energy burst from the bodies of Arielle, Seth, and Salem and pounded into Patric, tearing his body into pieces. Before all their eyes he was ripped apart at the seams. His arms broke away. His head tore off as his legs shredded from his torso, flying into the back wall. Patric lay in bloody mangled tatters on the floor. He did not move. His eyes were closed. He was dead.

  Behind them came a gasp. Lana stood dumbstruck at the sight before her. The three siblings whirled around and presented her with the same end. Yasmine, wobbly and shaken, assisted by Beryl’s steadying arm, stood up to see the foul sight before her. The floor of the loft was strewn in body parts, tissue, and organs drenched in oceans of blood. The werewolves were dead.

  Yasmine caught her breath as the realization of everything set in. She looked over at Seth, still standing with his sisters purveying the carnage they’d inflicted. His eyes met Yasmine’s and he was snapped back to reality. Her eyes were awash with anguish, relief, and shock. Slowly she reached her trembling arms out in desperate need of his strength. Seth dashed to her, sweeping her up into his embrace, burying his face into her neck where her hair tickled his nose. Yasmine went limp in his strong arms knowing that she could be weak now, and he would not let her go. Seeing Seth’s exposed, tattered back, Beryl rushed to the embracing couple and began healing Seth from behind. He never let go of Yasmine. Beryl finished the job and stepped away, giving them their space. Everyone gave them their space. Their privacy. Time to breathe. Time to savor the victory their love just won. Seth Blanchard held his beloved, neither saying a word, and nothing else but the two of them existed.